I often walked.
In my youth. At dawn.
When the day breaks and birds chirp and flock to life.
I often walked.
To the ocean at midevening to sunset. The salty spray stinging my cheek.
I often walked.
At the first fallen snow the snap of cold rippling into my lungs.
I often walked.
Through the hot dusty roads or into the lush cavernous green.
I often walked.
And when I was told I may
never
walk
again
the ray of sun lost its warmth and a piece of my soul did die.
But still I often walked. Maybe with a limp.
At the first twinkle of starlight.
I often walked to merryton, in my mind, a better Bennett sister inspired in kind.
I often walked in the springtime fragrant morning.
To find the flowers wild in bloom.
I often walked, to work then back again.
I often walked, to forage for caffeinated aromatic delight.
Kept it loose. I kept it free. But I often walked toward you, forever just
out
of
reach